Without Love
by TrapDoorLover
Summary: Thomas Crown affair...Erik and Christine style. M rating for future chapters and all around naughty stuff...RR !
1. Chapter one

As the man walked down the hall, the stares from the women in their small pathetic cubicles burned into his back. To not notice his confident swagger, his graceful masculine body, you would have had to been blind.

As he waited in the lobby of the large office building, his smooth glance at the receptionist had her blushing like a school girl.

"Thank you," he smirked at her as he walked by the desk.

"Mmhh...No problem," she sighed under her breath.

Inside the doors was a black leather lounging couch. Next to it a comfortable looking straight back chair. The view from the window was that of the clear blue sky and tall buildings of an older architecture.

There was a woman standing behind the chair as he walked in. She was older with sleek blonde hair, just past her prime years but still beautiful. She was wearing a grey pin striped suit with black Prada pumps.

"Come in," she said to him, gesturing with her right hand

"Take a seat, get comfy."

"Ah Delores, I missed you, you are the sanity in my life," he said to her with a boyish gleam in his eyes.

"Humpf..I'm so sure you did."

" So what's new with your hectic life these days?"

"Well, I merged with a $30 Million dollar company, just finished my autibiography, I have bought my dream house in Monaco..." He slowly stops, a faraway look in his eyes.

"The only thing missing is the love of my life."

"HA," Delores coughed out, an incredulous look on her face.

"The love of your life? Since when have you thought about settling down, starting a family, you know you've always been career driven."

He slowly glances at her. "I just want to live the rest of my days happily ever after, with the right woman by my side, not just the flavor of the week. I grow tired of all these petty women, bored in their marriages, or the younger toned athletes I'm so fond of...I want someone who is my equal."

She took a hard look at him. She sees the small winkles by his eyes, the small but noticeable gray spots in his hairline. She see he's grown weary of the games he knows so well.

"Well only you can change what you want to do with your life, Dear."

"Well...I think I will have one last thrill.." he says with a twinkle in his eyes. He slowly starts to chuckle softy to himself.

"I think I'll pay a visit to the Paris Art Museum."

As he Walked into his stylish bachelor pad, he admired the paintings he has collected over the years. His favorite being a little Renoir he paid a little over $4 Million dollars for. It's the first thing someone see when they enter his home.

Not that he has many visitors, just the usual lawyers, bankers and a couple of art friends. He never brings the women in his life to his home. The feeling that they are invading his private life makes him feel trapped. He has had only one serious relationship of his life.

She was beautiful with long brown hair, full lips, gorgeous brown eyes. He became obsessive of her, she made him unstable with the need he had for her.If he saw her talking to another man, anyone, he became overwrought with jealousy. IT became too much for her to handle, even though he promised to back off, and let her have space, he found that he would have his men keep tabs on her and follow her around the city. He didn't trust her. He couldn't believe she wanted to be with him even though half of his face was a deformity so gnarled and nasty. He just knew in his heart that she was going behind his back and meeting secretly with other men.

Things came to an abrupt end when he followed her home from work one day...

_He was walking a little ways behind her as he followed her up the steps into her building. She always paused to collect her mail, so he waited. As she started walking up the stairs to her apartment, one of her neighbors stepped out of the hall way. He immediately started fuming as he saw the man that was talking to his love. "How Dare he," He silently thought in his mind. He watched as she embraced the man, as if it were familiar for her to do so, as if they'd met before._

'_Of course it would seem natural,' the voice crowed in his head,'She's a deceitful woman, who's afraid of your face.' 'No one could ever love you with that deformity on your face...no matter how much money you have.'_

_That being said Erik watched as she invited him into her apartment and shut the door. He waited until he knew the coast was clear, and made his way toward her door. _

_He slowly picked the lock and turned the knob open slowly. He heard the soft hum of the T.V. and slowly paced toward her living area. _

_As he looked over the kitchen wall, he saw something that made his blood boil. The man that came inside her home was sitting on the couch and his love was in font of him with her shirt off. The man was rubbing her back as she leaned over the couch to give him better access._

_His breathing became ragged as his thoughts about her were confirmed. _

_He slowly took the knife of the kitchen counter and smoothly walked out in front of the two._

_His love looked up surprise amd a look of guilt came over her face._

"_It's not what you think, my Love," she said,_

"_Don't presume to know WHAT I think! You treacherous, deceitful liar.I knew what you were doing."_

"_MY Love please, you're over reacting, he's just rubbing the kinks out of my neck-_

"_I'm overreacting? Stop talking you whore, don't explain your excuses, I can see plainly what's going on here..."_

_She turned her head down with shame.."My Love please...I don't know what to say, other than it's not what you think."_

_He took the knife and pulled it out from behind his back..._

_The headlines next morning read, Man and Woman killed by Lover jealousy, both found lying dead in an embrace, stabbed to death in the back..._

_Currently no leads on who suspects are..._

As the man slowly paced his house, he glided with predatory grace as he walked toward the phone...

"Avigoff, listen,...I have a Job for you."

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**Reviews Welcome**! this is my first attempt, let me know what you want more of...


	2. Chapter two

_The men arrived late. _

_One can never trust the foreign ones to do the job well. They were admitted into the building by a large sculpture resembling a horse. Once inside they broke away the pieces and climbed out._

_They turned on the heat so the camera sensors couldn't tell the difference between the wall and a person. Then they waited._

_When the men from security came down to check what was going on, they knocked them over the back of their heads so they could take their outfits._

_Around this time a smug, wealthy looking businessman was walking around the Art exhibits with a black titanium brief case._

_When the men got upstairs they noticed people leaving because it was too hot inside the museum._

_They started roping off the exhibit where a Monet was showing._

_As they started working on taking it out of the museum, the businessman opened a smoke bomb to set off the water sensors. The bar doors started closing. It closed them in the room they were trying to steal the Monet from._

_No one noticed a man sliding his briefcase under the doors to stop them from closing all the way as he slid under them._

_He got the Rembrandt off the wall and into another briefcase in a record 10 seconds._

_As he slid back under the door, there was just enough distraction that no one noticed him slowly walking away with a priceless piece of art._

_Well...maybe it was worth a little over $100 million dollars._

The next day the Art Museum is closed and the NYPD is searching for clues as to who would have stolen the other painting when the other men were in the room where they were caught.

Detective William Garcia is the man in charge of this case. He jumps slightly he hears the click-click of heels on the wood floor behind him.

"And just who are you ma'am," he asks her.

Standing in front of him is a woman of obvious power. She has gorgeous long dark hair down the middle of her back, bright green eyes like a cat's. Her body is perfectly proportioned, slight hips with a coveted breeze way and strong toned legs. Her upper body is toned with maybe a small C cup... he can't look that hard that fast.

"Hmm," she smirks. There's an evil twinkle in her eys he just can't shake.

"I'm with insurance, so you'll cooperate with me because there's a Swedish man who doesn't feel like writing a $100 million dollar check within the next few weeks."

D. Garcia gives her an incredulous look.

"I'm sorry I didn't catch your name."

"It's christine."


	3. Chapter three

Christine walked into the office the next morning with a coffee and a mission. Get those paintings back and get information.

She walked over to the mirror windows and looked inside at the man who was sitting handcuffed on the chair. The file she had in her hand suggested that she try and get information out of them.

She needed to find out why they let themselves get caught while another man took their glory and their freedom.

The man in the chair was of Spanish decent. He looked like a tough bodyguard who didn't want to be here anymore. He also looked like he didn't want to talk.

"Hola," Christine spoke. There's only so much you can do with highschool Spanish.

The man just looked at her. _Oh he'll be talking soon_.

"Tu Y sus amigos esta en mierde."

He just smirked and looked at her.

"Tu hablas Ingles?"

"Oh I think you do. You see I'm tying to figure out how this works. Obviously there's a middle man who you don't meet or ever see, so he doesn't get caught up in it. Maybe he gives you the money first?"

The man just kept looking at her, not budging an inch.

Christine slowly walked over to his side of the table, leaned against his ear and whispered, "_I know that you probably don't know anymore than the other two guys, but I want you to know that if you tell me more information as to who paid you to do this, or you know where the painting is...we can work out a little something for you."_

The man spilled, he said there was a wealthy man who paid $20,000 for them to get in the Art Museum. He never said that they would get out.

A little bit later there was a lineup of about 7 men from the city and the NYPD put one of them men from the attempted robbery in it. One of the eye witnesses was a devilishly attractive man, late 40's wealthy looking. Christine stood in to see if he matched with the guy they just interrogated.

"That man," he said.

He pointed directly at our boy.

"Are you sure," detective Garcia asked him.

"I am most positive," the man stated.

This interested Christine because this man didn't look like the type to go to the Art Museum for fun. She watched as the man confirmed his identification.

His name was Erik.

"Would you like police protection sir? Sometimes these guys get it in their heads to get revenge," Garcia asked.

"Oh I'm sure there's no need," he smoothly answered.

At that moment Christine stopped getting her coffee and stood still. _The way he said that. A if he's sure no one would come get him. _

She watched him leave. He jogged gracefully to his new Bentley town car where his chauffeur was waiting with his door open.

There was something suspicious about him.

Now she had to think about the gala tonight at the Art Museum. There was a wealthy man donating a Monet to the exhibit. One of his own collection.

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**Reviews please! I want to know what you think**


	4. Chapter four

(At the Museum Later the next day.)

"And now Mr. Crown has given us a piece from his own collection. A beautiful renoir Ladies and gentleman. Not to mention personally apprehending one of the suspects for the monet."

Erik walked up and stood at the podium.

"Well I'm glad I could help out, now I'll do what any man at these events does wave my arms and shriek for help."

As the crowd laughed and dispersed a gorgeous brunette in a tight lace gown strolled up to Erik and stopped by his side.

"It's very impressive."

Erik glanced over at her.

"It seemed the right size for the space."

She smirked at him.

"Or maybe you were bored with it," she said as she stepped over to the makeshift bar set up in there.

Erik slowly paced over to her, studying her face.

"Have we met before?"

"No, I'm christine."

The man behind the bar came up to them and asked them what they would have.

"Uhm," christine started,"I'll have a Gin and Tonic and he'll have a vodka rocks with a twist."

Erik looked bemused.

"How did you know?"

Christine slowly lifted her glass up to take a sip.

"I've been reading about you...in a file."

"oh really? "

"I'm in the art world."

Erik lifted his left eyebrow. "Are You a gallery owner?"

Christine locked eyes with him.

"...closer to insurance."

The corners of Erik's lips slowly lifted up.

"I'm covered."

"Not for this..."

Christine leaned in a little, invading his personal space.

"...the painting, the Monet..."

She leaned in a little closer.

"You didn't think they'd simply write a check for 100 million dollars did you?"

Erik mulled this over in his head a little bit.

"So you...?"

"I get them things...with this much money invovled it's usually someone's head."

"Who's head this time?"

"Yours,...Good Evening Mr. Crown."

Christine walked out of the display room and over to get her Mink cover up. Erik trailed out after her.

"So...You're trying to say I had something to do with the painting?"

Christine raised her delicately arched eyebrows.

"Trying?..no I wouldn't call it an attempt."

Erik paced along side her as they walked towards the door.

"So what's your take?"

"10"

"Ah," Erik realized, "You're a bounty hunter."

"If you like."

They reached the doors and paused.

"Always get your man?"

"Always," Christine murmered.

Erik leaned in towards her.

"Think you'll get me," he whipsered, mere inches from her lips.

"Oh, I hope so," she said as she turned and pushed the door open to the chilly December night.

Erik followed her down the steps.

"Can I drop you somewhere?"

"No I have a Car here," Christine said as she stepped to her black town sedan.

Erik leaned in by her window, "Then tomorrow, Dinner?"

Christine looked up at him.

"You're on."

Erik smirked down at her.

"Let's make it early then, I've got a stop to make first."


	5. Chapter 5

The sleek black town car pulled up to the curb of a brand new condo building in the expensive part of town. There was a gated entry way that opened up to the small garden out in front.

Christine slowly walked up to her new temporary home.

She thought about the interesting way the evening had turned.

Her meeting up with Mr. Crown, err,…Erik.

Maybe practically saying he was the main suspect wasn't the best way to handle things, but it got the job done.

He had looked every bit the stylish rich playboy he probably is, wearing a black and grey Armani pin striped suit, with a black bowtie and and a white scarf around his neck….the first three buttons of his shirt undone so you could get a hint of the bottom of his throat and his smooth chest underneath.

None of her marks before had looked that good.

She slipped out of her fancy dress and put on some soft cotton pajamas before she slid onto her futon.

She looked forward to hearing from him about dinner tomorrow night.

She needed to get all of her facts straight before she rushed in and put the blame on Erik…

even though she's damn sure she knows he did it.

The only other thing that made her curious, was the black half mask covering the right side of his face…..

"So what have you got on her," Erik asked his friend and private detective Nadir.

Nadir paused from looking at the papers beneath him and looked up at Erik.

"Well from what I could find, she seems harmless enough. She lives alone, no really close family. She has always found the people that she's gone looking for because she has no distractions in her life. Her mother passed when she had Christine and her father died about 6 years ago from heart failure. He was some sort of violinist for the opera house..other than that there's not much else on her."

Erik paused in his pacing and over at Nadir his eyebrows slightly raised.

"So she likes being independent. She does well for herself. Do you think she's intelligent enough to figure out who did what with the paintings?"

Nadir shrugged his shoulders and stood up slowly. He stretched his arms over his head and yawned.

"Well…I'm beat I'll speak with you tomorrow…Good bye Erik."

Erik walked over and shook his hand and then watched as his friend left his penthouse apartment.

He sat down in front of the piano and placed his hands over the keys…no sound came from the instrument.

Erik hadn't felt the need to play or do anything remotely related to music ever since that terrible night that he first murdered the love of his life. The passion that he had for music had fizzled without the real life motivation to compose.

He slowly pressed down on the keys.

And let the haunting music fill his head and heart with its daunting melody.


End file.
